


sleeping at last

by buvkissteves



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, Fix-It, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27427171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buvkissteves/pseuds/buvkissteves
Summary: When Dean finally opened his eyes, Jack wasn’t looking at him. He was looking past him, his eyes glimmering with tears.Dean turned around.Standing there, in that godforsaken trench coat was Castiel in all his glory. He was smiling at all of them, but a moment later his eyes were on Jack, who stumbled up quickly and ran over to the man he considered his true father, enveloping him in a massive hug.Their plan had worked.Castiel looked at Dean over Jack’s shoulder. “Hello, Dean,”Dean didn’t move. “Cas...you came.”“I always come when you call.”**SPOILERS FOR 15X18 -- FIX IT FIC**
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 22
Kudos: 405





	sleeping at last

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS AHEAD FOR 15X18

“ _I always wondered, ever since I took that burden- I took that curse, I always wondered what it could be, what my true happiness could even look like and I never found an answer. because the one thing I want- it’s something I know I can’t have. But I think I know now, happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. It’s in just saying it… I know- I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the way our enemies see you. You’re destructive, you’re angry and broken, you’re daddy’s blunt instrument. you think that hate and anger, that’s what drives you. That’s who you are. It’s not- and everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love, you fought for this whole world for love- that is who you are. You’re the most caring man on earth, you are most selfless, loving human being I will ever know… you know ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you, I cared about sam, I cared about Jack, I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean.”_

“ _Why does this sound like a goodbye?”_

“ _Because it is… I love you.”_

“ _Don’t do this, Cas.”_

“ _Goodbye, Dean.”_

* * *

Dean Winchester opened his eyes.

He lay in bed, his room quiet. He had no idea what time it was, and quite frankly, couldn’t be bothered to check. He started at the ceiling, tired, worn, defeated.

“ _I love you.”_

He sighed, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes, refusing to cry. Mostly, he just wanted to sleep. But how could he sleep after what had just happened? How would he ever sleep again without having nightmares?

Maybe he should allow himself to cry. He spent most of his life repressing his feelings, so he wouldn’t really know if crying would make him feel better. He found, that as he got older, he had learned to cry more and more, but it was usually just to Sam, and it usually didn’t last long. But this sadness was different. It was the kind of sadness that he didn’t know how to fix. He couldn’t walk into The Empty and take back Cas, and he couldn’t pray to God to ask for Cas back. He was stuck. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t have a plan on how to get himself out of a situation.

Worse was the image in his head, the sound of Castiel’s voice in his ears. Both haunted him. Those big, blue eyes crying. Castiel’s admission of love. Dean wished he would have said something. Anything. Anything other than what he did say. He should have fought harder. Told him...told him what?

Did Dean love Cas?

Certainly.

But did Dean _love_ Cas, the way Cas loved him?

“Dean?” Sam’s careful voice sounded, the door opening slowly.

When Dean had told Sam and Jack what had happened (the short version, which was Cas sacrificed himself to save Dean), they had both taken it badly. Jack locked himself in his room, and Sam had collapsed in a chair, crying, officially exhausted by everything that had happened to them in the past 24 hours. Dean hadn’t told Sam everything that Cas had said, there hadn’t been a moment...or perhaps there had been, but he had been too cowardly to take it.

“Yeah Sammy,” Dean sat up, throwing a weak smile at his brother who walked in, looking just as tired as Dean felt.

Instead of standing by the bed, or sitting across from him, Sam did something that he hadn’t done in years. When they were children, home by themselves, scared and alone, Sam would go into Dean’s room and crawl inside the bed with him, put his legs under the covers and would sit beside him in silence. He did that now, and that alone almost made Dean cry, but he held it in still.

The only thing different about this was that Sam didn’t want to stay silent.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” Sam asked, looking over at Dean.

Dean was very careful not to look at his brother. He knew that if he did, everything would come crashing down around him. All the walls he was so carefully keeping up would start to crumble, and there would be nothing left. Not that there was much of him left anyhow. Castiel had taken everything with him.

But Dean knew that he had to tell Sam everything that had happened. He knew that if he didn’t, it would eat him up in an even worse way.

“He did die,” Dean said carefully. “But...before he went into The Empty, he...Cas said he had made a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“He said that The Empty would take him back when he felt true happiness. Cas figured out what happiness was, and that’s why The Empty was able to take him back.” When Sam said nothing, Dean continued slowly, tears more seriously threatening to fall over now. “Cas...he said that he knew he couldn’t have happiness, but he knew that just saying it would make him happy. And he told me that he...he said he loved me.”

Saying it out loud, Dean could not hold back his tears any longer. They fell freely down his face, and he didn’t bother to wipe them. He simply sat there, feeling the words in his mouth, feeling the pain in his chest, feeling the silence that hung heavily between him. And it was the crying that allowed a small voice in the back of his head to whisper to him: _you know very well how you feel about him._

Sam was silent for a long while, for what seemed like an eternity. He allowed Dean the moment to cry, to let out everything he had to before he decided it was his turn to speak up. 

“Well,” Sam sighed. “It’s about time.”

That certainly made Dean look at his brother, turning his head so quickly he almost pulled his neck. “What?”

“I had a feeling.” Sam smiled kindly at him. “It was sort of obvious.”

“To who?”

“To pretty much everyone who has known either of you.”

“Either of us?”

Sam stared at him almost incredulously. “Dean, come on.”

“Come on what?”

“You still haven’t admitted it to yourself?”

Dean looked away, scoffing, allowing silence to fall between them again. The truth was...no, Dean hadn’t admitted it to himself. He’d been lying if the idea hadn’t been entertained throughout the eleven or so years that he had known Cas. But every time those thoughts or musings entered his mind, Dean made very sure that they left just as quickly. But had he thought what it would be like to kiss Cas? Yes, he had. Had he wondered what it would be like to be involved with a man? Again, yes, he had. But denial had convinced him that those thoughts were something that every man occasionally thought of throughout their lives. Sam was always saying sexuality was fluid, but Dean never allowed himself to take that into consideration when it came to his own preferences. 

It wasn’t that he was against men falling in love with other men, it was that when you grow up thinking you have to be a certain way—realizing that you’re someone else, that you’re not what your father wanted you to be, well, that wasn’t exactly an easy idea to get used to. It’s not like John Winchester ever had to beat the gay out of Dean, it was just that this heightened sense of masculinity had always been at the forefront of their lives. No crying, no weakness, and if you fell in love, it was with a woman. Society’s standards were important. 

Sam, who always knew exactly what Dean was thinking, said quietly, “It’s not the same as it was when we were kids, or even when dad was a kid.”

Dean still said nothing. He just kept thinking about Cas. It was true, the happiest Dean had ever been in his life was when they were not hunting. It was those small, slow days, where Sam, Dean, Jack and Cas did nothing but watch movies and make fun of one another. His darkest moments were when someone he loved was taken from him. And he had seen his brother and Cas die more times than he could count. Every time he got them back, his heart seemed to start beating again, as though he was alive but not living until they came back. With Castiel in particular, every time he came back, Dean felt something else stirring inside him. But until this moment, he had not ever known what word to associate the feeling with. But now that he was sitting here, in this bed with his brother, without his other best friend, he knew what the word was.

Longing.

“You know,” Dean shook his head, smiling despite his sadness. “I think...” he sighed, remembering the first time he ever saw the angel—Castiel showing up in the barn, sparks flying around him, looking his godliest, his hair messy and uncontrollable, his face serious and naive. “I think I fell for that stupid idiot the moment I saw him.” As he said the words out loud, he physically felt the weight being lifted off of his chest. But it was quickly replaced with more stabbing pain, because he could never have Castiel now. He had admitted it, yes, but at what cost? 

“Yeah,” Sam put a hand on his brother’s arm. “I think you did too.”

“Jesus Sam,” Dean whimpered. “I’m so stupid. If I’d have just...we could have had more time if—”

“If is a dangerous word. I think what matters is you know now.”

“It doesn’t matter. Cas is gone. So all of this doesn’t matter.”

“Hey,” Sam’s voice was stronger now, authoritative, demanding attention. So much so that Dean raised his weary head to look at his brother. His eyes were so fierce and loving that it broke Dean’s heart. “It matters. This is who you are, and you shouldn’t have to live with it as a weight. You...the two of you might not have been together, but what you had was beautiful in its own way.”

“Sam—”

But then, before Dean could say another word, the door burst open making them both jump. Standing in the entryway was Jack, with wild eyes and a bright smile on his young and hopeful face. Clearly, he had been listening to every word they had said.

Before either Winchester could speak, Jack spoke.

“I know how to bring Castiel back.”

* * *

Dean would be lying if he said he wasn’t _a bit_ nervous.

“Are you sure this is going to work, kid?”

“It’s easy,” Jack assured him, Sam standing watch from behind. Dean and Jack were sitting on the floor in Dean’s bedroom, staring into each other’s eyes. “I’ll use as much of my power as I can to connect the two of us to The Empty. If you pray loud enough _through_ my powers, I’m sure we can wake up Cas. I did it before, and The Empty was so annoyed with him that he threw Cas out!”

“But he took Cas back.”

“I think...I think if _you_ pray, it might be different. You’re louder than me.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean. You have more of a presence with all these supernatural things because you’ve been around longer. They know you. If you can wake up Cas, he’ll be too noisy again, and The Empty won’t want him there. Even if The Empty would keep taking Cas back, we could keep waking him up, and The Empty won’t want to keep going back and forth.”

Sam shrugged. “It might work. We _have_ been told we’re annoying.”

Dean frowned, being very careful not to get his hopes up. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

“Okay, close your eyes.”

Dean did as he was told, assuming that Jack was doing his glow up, turning all golden and godly just like his father and adopted father before him. Moments later he felt Jack’s fingers carefully place themselves on the sides of Dean’s head. Whatever power Jack was using certainly made its way through Dean—he _felt_ it go inside him, it felt as though a heavy gold liquid was seeping into his brain, making it weighty and strange.

Jack’s voice was inside of his mind. _Pray_.

Dean did as he was told.

Once upon a time, Dean was a stranger to prayers. He always knew God was a thing that people prayed to, and there were many different religions and gods or beings that people believed in. But for most of his life, Dean never found it necessary to pray for anything. Until Castiel.

_Castiel...Cas. If you can hear me, I need you to wake up. I know...I know I fucked up. Not even just this time. All the time, when it came to you and me. I know I should have said it sooner. But I was so caught up with who I thought I had to be, I never took a second to see what I wanted...needed. Please, buddy, I know you can hear me. You’ve always heard me. You’ve always listened. You’ve always come when I called. I’m calling now Cas. Come back to me._

Jack’s voice again— _Louder, Dean._

Dean concentrated harder, screaming with his thoughts, his eyes burning with the weight of tears that wanted to escape.

_Knowing you has been the best part of my life too. You made me a better person. It’s like you live inside me, in my soul. I thought I was only built for death, but you showed me I wasn’t. You brought light to my life Castiel. You said I was selfless, but you...everything you have ever done, you’ve done for the good of the world. For me. And I need you to do this too now. You have to come back to me. Please...please come back. I love you Cas. Always have, always will._

Jack’s fingers disconnected from him, and with it left the golden hue in Dean’s mind, making him feel lighter and more human. It took him a moment to open his eyes, the weight of what he had just done very heavy on him. Everything he had just said...even though it wasn’t out loud, had been very difficult to say. It wasn’t easy to hold everything in for a decade and then release it all at once.

When Dean finally opened his eyes, Jack wasn’t looking at him. He was looking past him, his eyes glimmering with tears.

Dean turned around.

Standing there, in that godforsaken trench coat was Castiel in all his glory. He was smiling at all of them, but a moment later his eyes were on Jack, who stumbled up quickly and ran over to the man he considered his true father, enveloping him in a massive hug.

_Their plan had worked._

Castiel looked at Dean over Jack’s shoulder. “Hello, Dean,”

Dean didn’t move. “Cas...you came.”

“I always come when you call.”

Dean couldn’t move, he didn’t have it in him. The emotional toll that this death and resurrection had taken on him was enough to make him tired for the next twenty years of his life—given that they would make it that far. He watched in what felt like slow motion as Sam and Cas reunited, more hugs being thrown around, Castiel thanking Jack for helping to bring him back. Jack smiling brilliantly, proud to be seen, to be loved. Dean would have to thank him after, apologize again for all the hurt he had caused this poor boy who was a victim. Dean had so much apologizing to do.

Sam looked at Dean quickly, who was still on the floor before putting his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “How about we go make some more plans for our next move against God?” he asked smoothly.

Jack, who could have very seriously not have known what Sam was really trying to do, nodded. “Sure.” he grinned, squeezing Castiel’s hand. “I’ll see you later.” Not a question. A command. A promise.

Castiel nodded. “Of course,” he hugged Jack once more before the two men left the room, leaving Castiel and Dean alone.

The silence was suffocating. Dean had never felt time before, but he felt it now. He felt it moving sluggishly around him. Castiel stood there awkwardly, looking at him with a soft smile, his eyes kind, loving, and as beautiful as ever. Dean was struck suddenly with how _stupid_ he had been to deny himself this man. This man who loved him. It was so easy to be happy, but they had fought so long against it because each thought they didn't deserve it. But in reality, they had both fought enough in their lives. They did deserve this.

When they both realized that Dean wouldn’t move any time soon, Castiel walked over to him and got down on his knees, their faces very close together.

Dean breathed out slowly, lost in Cas’ eyes.

Castiel spoke slowly, carefully, like he was trying to keep Dean steady and not scare him away. “I heard everything you said. I heard you, clear as a bell. Like...like you were right next to me.”

Dean swallowed, his eyes flickering down to Castiel’s lips before they went back to his eyes. “Everything?”

“Everything.” Castiel nodded. “But, I need you to say it now. Out loud. I need to...if I can really have you, Dean, I need to know that.”

Dean smiled sadly. “You’ve always had me Cas. I love you.”

Castiel’s expression lit up like the sun breaking the clouds apart. He leaned forward, their foreheads touching, his voice a whisper now, but full of love and joy. “You are my life, Dean Winchester. And when we win against God, we will have forever together.”

Dean chuckled, feeling elated from everything that was happening but frightened too. Interestingly, frightened in a good, exciting way. This was how things were supposed to be, he knew that now. He felt it all over his body, inside his heart. “Are you sure you want that with someone like me?”

“Do I need to tell you again, how important you are?”

“Honestly Cas...” Dean swallowed, forcing himself to be brave. “I’d rather we didn’t talk much right now. Just in case we do die, I want...” he stopped, those old voices and fears in the back of his mind, trying to make him cower away from what he wanted— _who_ he wanted. “I want to know you now. In a different way than before. So...so I don’t die knowing we missed it.”

Cas, being Cas, pulled away and asked, “Are you talking about sex?”

Dean laughed, and his laugh made Castiel smile, and that only made Dean laugh more, because all of this felt surreal and insane and _right_ and who cares if it scared him? He deserved to be happy, didn’t he? He deserved to let go of his trauma and his pain, and be happy with someone who loved him for his attributes, both good and bad.

“Yes,” Dean’s hand grasped Castiel’s coat, pulling him close. “I’m talking about sex.”

Castiel lingered there, looking uncertain. “What if...I know how much you value physical expression. What if it’s not the same as it was with all your women partners?”

“It won’t be the same. I don’t want it to be the same. I didn’t care about most of the people I’ve slept with. I care about you.”

Castiel’s large, tender, strong hands came to Dean’s face, cradling him. Dean wrapped his hands around Castiel’s wrists. “First, you must promise me something.”

“Anything.” Dean breathed.

“When it comes down to the fight, you can’t sacrifice yourself. It’s either we both go, or neither of us does.”

“How is that fair? You literally died _yesterday_.”

“Now that I get to have you, I don’t want to let you go. Promise me Dean, no more sacrifices.”

“You have to promise too.”

Castiel smiled serenely. “I promise.”

“Fine. Me too then.”

They both grinned stupidly at each other, and for a brief moment, it dawned on Dean that, for the first time in his life, he was going to be truly vulnerable with someone he loved more than anything in the world. _But he had only just admitted his love, wasn’t this too fast?_ But then, another voice, a calmer one, responded, _too fast? This has been eleven years in the making. We’ve waited long enough._

Dean didn’t feel afraid anymore.

He leaned in and pressed his lips lightly against Castiel’s.

It felt like the world exploded.

Dean had felt his lips against dozens of women, he had felt their skin on his. But never before did it feel so _monumental._ So fitting, so _right._ As much as he felt his entire body become alight, knowing that this was his forever, he also felt strangely calm, because now, all the puzzle pieces were finally together. There was nothing missing. They were both, finally, getting what they wanted.

Castiel’s lips were careful, clearly, he wanted Dean to control the kiss, which he was more than happy to do. It continued softly at first before Dean got on his knees, deepening the kiss and running his other hand through Cas’ hair, pulling at the strands lightly. His fingers felt like they were on fire.

Dean pulled away, feeling dizzy. “Bed,” he cleared his throat. “Bed.”

Castiel, who looked equally as frazzled, nodded and helped Dean up, shaking off his trenchcoat while Dean tore off his shirt. They undressed quickly, both of them laughing and smiling at each other as they did so. So many times they saw each other naked (really, it was bound to happen after eleven years of basically existing in the same spaces), between having to remove clothes to heal, or taking baths in lakes when they were on the road for so long and couldn't afford a motel. But now, Dean could explore it in all the ways he wasn't allowed to before. He took great pleasure in every movement he did. From the way Castiel sighed when Dean's fingers swiped over his erection, from the way the skin over his collarbone felt under his tongue. From the way his own skin heated up everywhere Castiel touched him. 

Dean would never need heaven. He had it right here, in the arms of his angel. 

Castiel gently pushed Dean on the bed, their kissing frantic and hungry now, their erections rubbing against one another, turning Dean’s kisses into pants in just a short, few seconds. He felt desperate, eager like he had been deprived of love his whole life and was about to get it made up for in the next minutes with Castiel.

Castiel pulled away for a moment to suck on his own fingers (which, yes, sent Dean absolutely wild), before whispering to Dean, “Do you want this?”

“I want you to give me everything,” Dean responded, and he guided Castiel’s hand to his entrance, kissing him passionately as Castiel pushed one finger slowly inside Dean.

They both knew from the way Dean’s body tensed—having never done this before—that it would take time. But they both had all the time in the world. So they made out for a long while, Castiel moving his finger in and out of Dean until he was relaxed enough for a second, and then a third, pushing Dean to his absolute limit, almost over the edge before he had to tell Castiel to slow down, to stop, otherwise it would all be over.

When Castiel pulled his fingers out and aligned himself up, they took a moment to look into each other’s eyes.

Dean, feeling more honest and true than he ever had in his life, said, “Everything will be okay.”

Castiel smiled down at him. He placed his hand over Dean’s shoulder, where his handprint had once been burned into his skin, the other hand winding itself in Dean’s hair, his arm leaning by his head to keep himself steady as he pushed in. Dean gasped, and Castiel swallowed his sounds with a hard kiss, Dean wrapping his body best he could around Castiel, pain and pleasure rocketing through his entire body.

It was a strange feeling at first, but not unwelcome. Not unpleasant. Just unfamiliar. But once Castiel began to move slowly, all that pain turned into pleasure, and before they both knew it, kissing seemed like too much work for them to do. The pleasure was all-encompassing, their bodies were on fire, it felt like Castiel’s angelic grace was coursing through the both of them.

In Dean’s personal opinion, he could lay here forever and have Castiel pound into him until he was old and grey, but sooner than he wanted, they were both nearing their edge. Dean didn’t want it to stop, the sounds Cas made were _addicting._ Little noises and grunts, whispering Dean’s name over and over. Dean was louder, unashamedly so, and that seemed to spur Cas on, make him go harder, faster.

"I'm close Cas," Dean kissed the corner of Castiel's cheek, his hand reaching down to grab his erection. He got himself off, listening to Castiel's ragged moan as he came inside Dean, before he came shortly after, his entire body turning to mush after the fact. 

Instead of collapsing on top of him, Castiel gently removed himself from Dean and lay on his side while Dean weakly grabbed for his shirt and wiped himself and then at Castiel a bit, before throwing it back on the floor and laying next to Castiel in bed. They both turned on their sides, their hands reaching for each other in the middle. Dean kissed the point where their fingers connected. 

Dean whispered softly, "I'm so happy." he murmured, and then smiled. "But I'm also so tired."

Castiel smiled back leaning forward to kiss Dean gently. "Sleep Dean. Your angel will be watching over you."

Dean wanted to make a joke, but he found his eyes closing instead. And finally, Dean Winchester was sleeping, at last. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a shameless self-pitying fix-it fic. 
> 
> Whether or not they end up together, is up to the real writers. But for now, this will have to do for me. I hope you all enjoyed my ramblings through my sadness. This is mostly a therapeutic way for me to get through the next two weeks. If you did like it though, please leave me a like and a comment, so I can see the lovely words during these hard times. Supernatural ending was going to be difficult enough as it was, but 15x18 certainly didn't make it any easier.


End file.
